


A Merry Little Christmas

by McRaider



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: First Christmas after the arrest, Gen, Jackie and Gil care for Malcolm, Malcolm Bright Needs a Hug, Malcolm can't sleep, Malcolm gets a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:27:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21946561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McRaider/pseuds/McRaider
Summary: Malcolm didn’t answer, just tucked his head in the space between Gil’s throat and shoulder. One arm coming to rest on Gil’s back, gripping his shirt slightly. Jessica took a deep breath and forced the smile onto her face, “Right you three have fun I’ll see you in a couple days.” She didn’t hug or kiss her son goodbye.OrMalcolm is struggling with his first Christmas after his father's arrest.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Jackie Arroyo
Comments: 7
Kudos: 102





	A Merry Little Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theyhulk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyhulk/gifts), [batonblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/batonblue/gifts), [eringeosphere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eringeosphere/gifts), [Rosedraquia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosedraquia/gifts).



> Just a sweet little one shot while I finish up Ablaze. Merry Christmas and thanks to our Discord group Brimel, you guys are wonderful and it's nice to have found a little family of my own. <3

Jessica Whitly had been firm in her decision that they would spend this Christmas just like they had everyone before that, together as a family, whether or not her wretched husband (soon to be ex) was involved or not. She’d been positively resolute in her decision, right up until Christmas Eve morning after Malcolm had a terrible batch of night terrors, getting sick and general misery. It was between that, encouragement from the therapist and her son’s lack of speaking that found her on the doorstep to the small little hole of an apartment in lower Manhattan. Her limo stuck out like a sore thumb in this area, as did she and her son, but all the same, the pair stood side by side. Waiting in the chilly winter morning. Malcolm’s eyes wide if not a little vacant, and Jessica’s determined.

The door opened to reveal Gil Arroyo’s confused expression, he’d been involved in Malcolm’s life for the past five months now, having become something of a permanent fixture to the child. Jessica had hated it at first, but the more she saw the cop with her son, the less she could deny he was helping Malcolm.

“Jessica, what’s wrong, hi kid,” Gil greeted looking down at the ten-year-old. Malcolm surprised both adults when he took two small steps forward and threw his arms around Gili’s waist.

Jessica gasped briefly, before letting a warm smile across her features, “We had a bad night. Please tell me if I’m imposing, but I think he’d be better off somewhere else for Christmas, somewhere he can just be a kid.”

Gil looked down at the boy, sweeping his hand through the boy’s hair, “He’s always welcome here, Jessica. So are you and Ainsley.”

“We’ll be fine, but…just until the day after Christmas, please?”

Gil smiled, before he reached down under Malcolm’s arms and lifted the boy up into his arms, “I think we can handle a couple nights together. What do you think kid, think Santa will be able to find you here?”

Malcolm didn’t answer, just tucked his head in the space between Gil’s throat and shoulder. One arm coming to rest on Gil’s back, gripping his shirt slightly. Jessica took a deep breath and forced the smile onto her face, “Right you three have fun I’ll see you in a couple days.” She didn’t hug or kiss her son goodbye. The days of hugs and kisses had long since passed, not because Malcolm didn’t want them, but because she had to be a mother and father now and was too busy trying to keep herself held together with glue and bubblegum to allow for pesky things like emotions to get in the way.

Gil sighed, hitching his kid up a little higher on his hip, as they watched Jessica slide back into her car with her usual elegance and grace. Shaking his head, Gil turned, closing the door behind him and locking it, he carried their boy into the kitchen where Jackie had been preparing a light breakfast.

“Look who’s come to visit,” he announced as he gently set Malcolm back on his feet.

Instantly the little boy hurled himself at Jackie, who just chuckled softly and swept the child up in a big hug, “Oh I was hoping to see you this week, how are you handsome?” she asked, she knew he wouldn’t vocally respond, instead he just buried his face in her stomach and squeezed a little tighter.

“Jessica said they had a bad night, she figured he might need a break from the memories,” Gil explained as he sat down at their dining room table to sip his coffee and finish reading his morning paper.

He was surprised when a few moments went by and he found himself with a lap full of Malcolm. The ten-year-old had all but shoved his way into Gil’s arms. Gil chuckled and leaned back against his chair, crossing one of his legs over his knee to allow for a better seat for the boy. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but as Malcolm mimicked the position and leaned back against Gil’s sturdy chest, the cop didn’t have it in his heart to care.

Unlike Jessica, who was understandably upset that her son wasn’t speaking, Gil and Jackie didn’t force Malcolm to speak. Instead, they included him in conversation or talked around him like they normally would. They kept the conversation light, Jackie filling them in on her work at the museum where she was curator, and occasional funny stories from Gil’s days in uniform which had just recently ended with his promotion to detective.

Occasionally, Gil would glance down at the boy in his lap, who’s eyes had been rapt on the scramble word puzzles for the day. But now those eyes were slipping closed. There was a certain level of worry that Malcolm would wake up amid a night terror. But he kept his own mood positive and set his paper aside, he wrapped an arm around Malcolm’s waist and chest, shifting just slightly in the chair so he was more comfortable, and turned Malcolm so he sat more comfortably as well. With one hand steady on the boy’s chest, he began to softly hum.

He was well aware of Jackie’s eyes on him, her own voice occasionally joining his in the singing of ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,’. Soon soft snores filled Gil’s ears as he continued to sing, keeping the boy wrapped up in his tight warm arms. “You’re safe, Malcolm,” Gil murmured pressing a kiss to the boy’s forehead.

Gil wasn’t sure how long he sat there, he’d eaten breakfast, finished a second cup of coffee, all the while Malcolm remained dead to the world. Finally, around noon, Gil scooped the boy up in his arms, getting only the smallest protest.

“You know if you put him upstairs he’ll wake up,” Jackie whispered as Gil headed into the living room.

“I’m aware,” he replied gently, instead he settled down into his favorite recliner, nestling Malcolm between his side and the armrest. He then leaned the recliner all the way back, chuckling when Jackie covered them both with a blanket. “You know I’m going to overheat.”

“Shush, that boy needs to know he’s warm and safe.”

If Gil fell asleep himself at some point, and during their long nap, Malcolm shifted to cuddle against Gil’s chest, well then Jackie couldn’t be faulted for taking dozens of pictures that she’d later frame. Instead, she left her boys in the living room with the TV on and headed upstairs to wrap some of Malcolm’s presents.

It was getting dark outside when Malcolm’s eyes fluttered open, blue eyes staring up into brown ones, “Hey kiddo, how’d you sleep?” Gil asked, running his hand over the child’s hair.

Malcolm didn’t reply, of course, instead he spread his arms across either side of Gil’s chest and snuggled in closer. Enjoying the rare moment of feeling safe. At ten he normally wasn’t openly affectionate, determined to be strong for his family. But rather now he was warm, toasty and felt safer than he had in months. “Love you,” the mumble slipped from his lips link a baby’s pacifier as he slid back into a fitful sleep.

Gil was certain he stopped breathing as he heard the soft little words. “I love you too, kid. Merry Christmas.”

The End


End file.
